


Walking on Embers

by LittleWriterWitch



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Biting, Cannibalism, Dark Will Graham, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Underage, M/M, Not Safe Sane and Consensual, Wendigo Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 12:42:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5164241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleWriterWitch/pseuds/LittleWriterWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His beast is ever-so-pleased.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking on Embers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [telera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/telera/gifts), [LivingOnTheEdge5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivingOnTheEdge5/gifts).



> I have decided that I am a lost cause when it comes to titles.
> 
> This is a piece of an old story that I never quite finished. The main plot was Wendigo!Hannibal raising his mate Will. ~~Oh, how could that ever go wrong?~~
> 
> My lovely muses, Julia and Telera, inspired me for this piece. I may add more later on if I get the inspiration.
> 
> X-posted [here](http://little-writer-witch.tumblr.com/post/132606210563/i-completely-and-utterly-blame-telerafairlyreie) on tumblr.

The kiss tastes of rage. It is quick, rough, and painfully beautiful—or beautifully painful, Will is unsure of which.

Teeth tear into his lower lip, crimson blooming over milky white skin. He bites back with the same ferocity, his reward a broken snarl from his red-stained lover.

Heat consumes him, embers stirring beneath his ribcage, flames fanned by demanding caresses. Too-sharp nails dig into his back—any deeper, and Will has no doubts that his flesh will be reduced to no more than alabaster ribbons.

_Hunger_  is not the proper word to describe what Will is feeling. He craves; he  _needs_. He wants to be covered in his lover, mixed in the most primal of ways. Red on red, blood on his tongue as he allows his mouth to be conquered.

The growl that resonates from his chest is less than human, and yet somehow  _more_. His hands grapple at body pressed to his own, fingers finding purchase in corded muscle and unyielding skin.

The assault moves to Will’s throat, smooth flesh bruising under his lover’s attentive mouth. His lips throb, blood thrumming just beneath his skin. He is not sure whose blood is on him anymore, whether the warmth that coats his palette belongs to him or his lover. He cannot find it in himself to care.

He arches, squirms. There is a small voice in the back of his mind, the thought of danger clinging to Will’s conscious by mere threads.

Will finds his voice when teeth slice into the meat of his shoulder, a scream ripping through his throat as his lover tears a chunk from his flesh. Burning pain threads through his system, yet it only makes him want more.

“William,” the voice capture his attention with the subtly of a gunshot, wringing a whimper from between bruised and bleeding lips. “Open your eyes, William. Look at me.”

He does. Oh, does he  _look_. Ebony antlers curl above the beast’s head, a bloody and horrid and breathtaking halo. A wicked smile greets Will’s gaze, peaking between razor teeth.

A clawed hand comes up to Will’s mouth, meat perched just at the tip of his tongue. He burns hotter, hotter—burning alive from the inside.

The meat tastes of home, his teeth aching as he chews on the piece offered. His lover is both content and wanting, offering strip after strip of fresh meat to Will’s waiting mouth.

He is becoming full of himself, and he does not care.

His beast is ever-so-pleased.

“William, my  _darling boy_ …”

Will wakes to the feeling of too-tight skin and a fever in his bones


End file.
